Losing My Marbles
by Lyrieux
Summary: Things can happen to those who are alone in space for long periods of time. "The life support machines and the computer droned on, accompanying John's thoughts which were screaming within his head."
1. Losing My Marbles

_**Losing My Marbles **_

John cried out towards the blue marble which teased him constantly, day in, day out, through the large window in his rotating tin-can suspended in space. His face was read and his cheeks damp from the frustrated tears cascading down them in floods. The constant buzzing of the life support machines and the computer droned on, accompanying John's thoughts which were screaming within his head.

Seven months. Seven months he had been suspended in space, trapped within the walls of his metal cell. It had been seven months since he last brushed his feet through sand or spent the early evening surfing in the crisp blue sea, on the coast of Tracy Island.

John forced the thoughts of home out of his head and made an attempt to dry his eyes on his sleeves. Holding his breath, he held back his emotions and tried to carry on observing the satellite weather forecast for the coming week. But try as he might, he could not stop more tears from streaming down his face from his eyes. They scattered themselves across the desk and the computer keyboard, reflecting the image of the earth from the large window, almost giving the illusion of a miniature universe created in water.

John slammed his fist down onto the desk, scattering the miniature universe far and wide. He pushed himself up from the chair and walked over to the large window. There he stood, for a good twenty minutes, just staring at the earth. Sure, it was beautiful, but he wasn't there. He was trapped, in his asylum in space, with no-body close enough to hear him cry out in emotional pain or neglect. He was alone and it was slowly sending him insane.

Jeff had contacted him a few months ago and had commented on John's paler-than-usual complexion and the dark circles around his eyes. But John soon falsely reassured him that he was merely feeling a little under the weather and would be okay in a few days. Lies. He was beginning to cut off the calls from his family; not answering them unless they were an emergency. Solitude was now his close friend and insanity was becoming like a new brother.

John was beginning to find himself drifting off into a world of daydream, where he would act as another personality. He would take on the role of someone else, a darker side, a hidden side and thrash about the space station. Many a time he had woken up on the floor with his fists covered in blood and found broken things scattered and thrown around.

He cried out again and slid his back down the reinforced glass window, ending up in a heap on the floor with his head buried in his knees. There was the faint beeping sound of an incoming call in the background, but John could find no strength to get up and answer it. Besides, if it was an emergency call, there would be lights flashing and a louder siren, therefore it wasn't important.

His head felt heavy on his shoulders as John crawled across the cold, metal flooring towards his bedroom. He couldn't stay where he could see the earth, he needed to be somewhere darker. Once in his bedroom he turned on a small yellow lamp in the corner, just enough to light the room in a dim glow. He then reached for a black marker pen and sat onto the floor, drawing his knees up into his chest, and began to write on the walls.

The writing on the walls was not of normal script. It was written in a harsh and pointed font with long dagger-like letters and a harsh atmosphere. All over each and every wall he wrote; insults. Each wall was covered in insults to himself; _They hate me down there. That's why I'm always left up here; forgotten. I'm the outlaw... the black sheep. They hate me. I'm different. I'm like Mom. Maybe I should die too. Then they would be fine, if I died too. I'm unworthy. I'm not brave enough to be a Tracy. I can't cope in dangerous situations. Maybe I should just go. Maybe I should just die. No. That would be too easy. I need to suffer for being such a burden._

He carried on writing on the walls until early morning when his body gave up and fell asleep. On the floor he lay, cold and ill.

* * *

><p>The morning came and John's alarm clock called out. His red eyes slowly opened and a blurred sight greeted them. After a few moments of adjusting, John stood up and made his way out towards the computer. Three emails had been received. All three were from Alan, the brother John treasured the most. All three were asking about why he would not take the call and why he hadn't been in contact. <em>Delete<em>.

A sudden insanity fuelled rage took ahold of John and he drove his fist through the computer screen; disabling it. The connection between Tracy Island and him had now been severed and the computer switched itself off for safety reasons. Blood ran down John's fist from where the glass had penetrated his skin and muscle. The months up in space, alone and feeling unwanted had driven John to insanity and now with the only connection to civilization lost, he was truly alone in space.

John continued smashing and breaking things in his frenzy. Desks, chairs and monitors were in pieces scattered across the space station; creating hazards and safety problems. Broken glass was deeply wedged into John's fist and arm, causing blood to cascade down them and stain his uniform. Small blotches of the crimson blood were on the floor, showing the route he had walked. There were also large smudges across the window looking out to the earth and around the door frames.

Dizziness began to take over from the loss of blood but still the mentally ill John carried on. _I need to suffer for being such a burden_. He pulled himself up to the window where the earth still teased him, and where there wasn't smudges of blood he began to write messages to himself, using the blood witch was still oozing from his wounds. _You are unworthy. You are pathetic. You need to die. They don't need you. The earth taunts you. It has your family. They love it more than you. You are nobody._

With what little strength he had left, John crawled into the center of the room and using his penknife, which was always in his pocket, he made the cuts just a little deeper. Tossing the knife aside, he lay on the floor and cried out in pain, unable to move, unable to call for help, unable to remember who he truly was. He lay there, in pools of his own blood until darkness overtook his mind and he drifted into a deep sleep filled with pain and insults, black and grey.

* * *

><p>Jeff impatiently waited for Thunderbird Three to lock itself to Thunderbird 5. The lack of calls and the sudden disconnection from John had reached its peak and Jeff wanted to ask what was wrong. He knew his son hated being up here for such a long period of time, but with all of the disasters happening recently, they just didn't have time time or resources to bring him down. And so the usual three-monthly shifts droned on and turned into seven. Jeff was concerned for his son's health and thought that perhaps the lack of connection with them was to show that he was giving them the cold shoulder for leaving him up there for so long. He probably just has a touch of flu.<p>

Virgil opened the airlock and radioed down to Alan to say they had arrived. Virgil and Scott had come with Jeff, leaving Gordon and Alan on the ground with the others, incase there was another emergency call.  
>"He probably just has flu, Virge." Jeff said, putting his arm around his son as they awaited the airlock to open. A few moments had passed and still it hadn't budged.<br>"Come-on, John..." Scott laughed.  
>"He's always slow when he's ill." Jeff smiled. But when the minutes stretched on, Virgil grew more concerned.<br>"Are you sure he's alright in there?" Virgil questioned. He received a frown in response from both his father and his brother. Virgil always managed to think of the most drastic and awful situations, and they were almost never true. Almost.

It had been ten minutes since Jeff had put in the request for the airlock to be opened.  
>"Dad I think something's wrong..." Virgil said, looking at the controls on the airlock.<br>"Maybe the system is down, he'll be here in a minute."  
>"I don't think so, dad. The controls haven't been touched in hours." Jeff's face turned to one of concern after Virgil's last statement.<br>"Right." Jeff moved towards the controls and ushered Virgil and Scott out of his way. There was a 21 digit emergency code that was incorporated into every system on every one of the Machines in which they use. Jeff merely put this into the control panel, and all powers were overridden. The airlock opened.  
>"Why didn't you just do that in the first place?" Scott laughed, walking in first. His walking soon turned into a sudden stop when he saw the blood smudged up the walls and the door frame in the entrance area.<br>"Dad...I don't think you should come in here..." Virgil exclaimed, after seeing the blood too. He tried to hold his father back, but Jeff brushed passed and carried on in.  
>"I don't know what has gotten into you boys since-" He stopped, mid sentence. His eyes scanned the immediate area, taking in the sight of the blood and the glass, the broken objects and the sheer state of the place.<br>"John..." He laughed. "Halloween was last month, you could have cleaned up a bit since then." Jeff took another few steps forward, but stopped when the a crunching sound came from under his feet. He lifted his foot up and looked down. Broken glass. "Alright John, where are you? What's gone on?" There was no reply. "John?" Jeff's tone turned from playful to serious.  
>"It' alright Dad, maybe there's been a blow-out or something. Perhaps something went wrong. He might be in the bath or asleep..." Scott suggested.<br>"I don't think so. Doesn't explain the blood." Virgil said, running his fingers down the still dripping blood. "It's pretty fresh. I'd say... within the last few hours this has happened."

Each of them slowly walked out into the wrecked space station. More glass and smashed items greeted them, followed by more blood and now the insults.  
>"What has he been up to? Its like an asylum in here..." Scott commented, running his fingers over a statement written on the wall.<br>"What does it say, Scott?" Jeff asked, picking up the back of a book, which had been ripped off without care.  
>"<em>I need to suffer for being such a burden<em>." A lump appeared in Scott's throat. "John?" He called out, his voice faltering as he did so. "John? Where are you? Dad, he's gone insane!"  
>"Don't say such things. I'm sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for this. Besides, it's probably some joke an he's probably used animal blood."<br>"And where is he going to get animal blood from up here?" Virgil questioned. The conversation died down and the three of them continued to trudge through the masses of glass and broken object debris towards the main room, where the main computer resides.

"Hang on, Dad." Scott said, "He might be in his room." The three Tracy's were just down the corridor of where John was lying, but instead chose to search his room.  
>"Bloody hell..." Virgil exclaimed, "He's gone nuts!"<br>"Don't say such things!" Jeff snapped. His mind changed when he began to read the insults scrawled across all of the walls, in every last inch of space. "We need to find him."  
>"John!" Scott called out, running down the corridor, leaving his father and brother reading the insults in John's room.<p>

Scott walked and searched through all the rooms leading up to the main one. When his eyes met the scene in there, his knees weakened. The bloody scrawling's across the window, the smashed up computer, the glass over the floor... his brother lay motionless.  
>"John!" He cried out, running towards his brother's body. He could find no words to say. Scott fell to the floor next to his brother and pulled him up onto his lap, where he held him in his arms and checked for a pulse. There was masses of blood on the floor and it had stained John's otherwise sleek platinum blonde hair. There was a pulse, but it was faint. "DAD!" Virgil and Scott dashed in and the scene hit them like a ton of bricks. Virgil collapsed into the floor in shock and Jeff ran over to the aid of his son.<br>"John..." He muttered, also falling to his knees. He stroked his son's hair and a tear escaped the corner of his eye.  
>"He's alive, dad." Scott muttered, moving his fathers hand so he could feel the light pulse in John's neck.<p>

_"We need to get him home."_


	2. Up In The Sky

The atmosphere did not change in colour as Thunderbird 3 headed towards the earth. It was dark down there now, and all that could be seen was the fading outline of the moon, now hiding itself away behind some clouds. Virgil couldn't help but feel that the hiding of the moon and the lack of atmosphere colour change symbolized what had happened to John. He was hidden, up in space by all of the clouds and the atmosphere around him never changed. Never did it get light up in space, never could John feel the warm sun upon his face. He had become distant from the family because of his distance from home. Virgil rubbed his hands over his eyes. A Tracy going insane was bizarre on its own, but John! That was even more so. John was the most level-headed and intelligent of the Tracy boys. If any, he should have been he last to go insane.

Muttered verse rattled the particles in the air of Thunderbird 3. Jeff and Scott had taken up singing old songs from when the boys were little; not very loud, but they were there._Up in the sky, all the stars are alive..._ Virgil wanted to join in, but as soon as he uttered a word, his head would turn to his unconscious brother, who was lay next to him, waiting for more advanced medical attention back on Tracy Island. Jeff and Scott were skipping a few words due to not knowing them, and Virgil couldn't help but think that if John were awake, he would know all of them. John always did know all of them, he never forgot a lyric or a tune. Even being the second eldest, next to Scott, John was always the 'big brother' figure. Every one of the Tracy boys looked up to him, literally, for help or guidance when they felt they couldn't speak to their father. Now, he was the one needing their help, _severely._

It took forty minutes for Thunderbird 3 to reach Tracy Island from space. Not long in day-to-day life, but for the Tracy's aboard the rocket, it couldn't have felt any longer. Jeff had called ahead, to make sure that Brains was ready for the medical state in which John was in;

"Thunderbird 3 to Tracy Island."

"Tracy Island, S-s-s-... ." Brains replied, soon snapping onto the monitor before Scott and Jeff.

"ETA two Minutes, Brains." Jeff sighed, taking a quick glance behind him to see Virgil looking over his brother with a pained expression.

"Okay sir, I have equipped J-J-J-...Master Tracy's bedroom with all the Medical sup-s-up... Items in which I shall need." Brains stuttered.

"Thank you, Brains..." Jeff trailed off and looked out of the window.

"How is he?" Brains asked, looking at Jeff through the monitor. Jeff didn't reply, and neither did Scott. Both were still too scarred by the situation to speak of it. Virgil replied, switching Brain's view from the front of the rocket, to the back, so he could see both himself and John easier;

"He's alive, if that what you mean..." He mumbled, checking John's pulse for the 9th time in the space of three minutes.

"Virgil... I know you are capable of a more me-medi... detailed response." Brains sighed, adjusting his glasses.

"I know. He appears to have glass in his forearm, large shards. Well... there's glass stuck piratically everywhere over his chest and arms, bits in his one cheek... cuts everywhere, he's covered in bruises... He's lost a lot of blood..." Virgil's eyes began to 'water', as he listed the things that were visible. _Who knows what internal damage there was...: his brain._

"Virgil!" Another voice called out over the comm system. Virgil looked up to the call of his name and saw and shorter, younger blonde than the one he was currently nursing.

"Alan." He said, forcing a smile at his youngest brother, who was obviously looking concerned.

"What's happened?" He asked, eyes searching Virgil's face for answers. He then noticed the bad state in which John appeared to be in. "John?"

"He'll be alright, twerp." Virgil said, trying to make his voice sound somewhat more lighthearted, "He's just had a bit of a rough time..."

"Rough time! I'm not a kid anymore, Virge... You can tell me what actually happened!" Alan retorted.

"Not now, Alan." Jeff butted in. "They'll be time for explanation later, we need to get John home and better first." The communication link ended, and Thunderbird 3 landed.

* * *

><p>"How is he?" Jeff asked, when Brains finally emerged from John's room. He had been sat outside on the floor, leaning up against the wall since Thunderbird 3 landed four hours ago. Alan had been pacing up and down the hallway in front of him for most of that time and Virgil had fallen asleep, also leaning against the wall. Scott and Gordon called it quits and had gone to bed sometime ago and Tin-Tin and Fermat were watching a late night movie to pass the time.<p>

"Stable." Brains replied, keeping his answers brief as not to worry any of the Tracy's, but a glance from Jeff told him to be more detailed; "He should be fine, externally. "

"Externally?" Jeff questioned, standing up and stretching his legs from their cramped position.

"I am unsure of why John would inflict such pain onto himself. The camera footage from inside Thunderbird 5 should shead l-l-l-... illuminate the facts a little more."

"Hes gone insane, that's what." Virgil yawned, looking up to Brains. It was obvious he had been asleep; there were lines on his face where his uniform had pushed against his skin, leaving indentations. Jeff shot Virgil a look. "Oh come on Dad, there's no point pushing away truth. Lets face it, we left him up there too long and he became distant. No phone calls, nothing... He then started to blame himself from the lack of contact and it drove him insane. I mean, who wouldn't be? Imagine staying up there, where no-one can hear your calls, where you have hardly any contact with people, for seven entire months. He's gone insane from it."

"Virgil! Stop. Now." Jeff warned. Alan shared a glance with Brains.

"May I suggest we go and l-loo-lo-... survey the footage from Thun-un-... the spacecraft?" Brains piped up.

"I think that would be wise, Brains." Jeff said, leading the two boys into the Control room where the footage could be accessed. John needed to rest.

* * *

><p>"I can't believe it..." Jeff muttered, as he kept rewinding one piece of the footage over and over again. The cameras had caught every last move of John's up on five; the camera's that were initially installed for the moth problem which had somehow occurred up there, to see where they were moving to and from.<p>

Again Jeff rewound the footage; watching John slice at his wounds over and over and over again before collapsing and losing consciousness.

"It's my fault..." He finally muttered, pausing it. Everyone stayed silent. They knew retorting would only make the situation worse. "I shouldn't have left him up there for so long, I should have made more time to talk to him, to see if he was okay... I was too wrapped up in my own selfish mannerisms that I forgot... _I forgot about my own son_, all those miles away up in space..." By the end of his short speech, Jeff had many a tear in his eyes.

"It's no-ones fault, Dad..." Virgil reassured, kneeling on the floor next to his fathers chair, "It just happened..."

"We'll help him, there's no point in blame..." Alan added, kneeling the other side. Jeff nodded and switched off the computer screen.

* * *

><p>"...And it, of course, ended up with Alan being half-drowned in the swamp. It was hilarious, John... I wish you could have been there." Virgil half-heartedly laughed. He had been talking to John's sleeping body for most of the night. He couldn't sleep himself and thought that a bit of company would be good for John, even if he didn't acknowledge his presence. Just as Virgil wiped a stray tear from his eye, there was a knock at the door, and a smaller blonde walked in.<p>

"How is he?" Alan asked, sitting on the opposite side of the bed to Virgil, crossing his legs.

"Hasn't stirred at all... seems to be sleeping pretty well... He'll be alright, Brains did a really good job patching him back together." Virgil moved a stray bit of hair from John's forehead. Even with all of the 'cleaning up', John's hair still had a tint of red from the blood.

"Yeah... Medically he'll be fine, but what about _mentally_?" Alan moved closer to John and lay down next to him. They had always been close.

"I don't know, twerp. I guess that one is up to us..."


End file.
